Conduit
by KNewer
Summary: Delaney Lee moved to Forks to take care of her Oma and ride out the rest of her senior year in relative peace, maybe make a few friends on the way. However, whenever she's around the Cullen's, specifically Jasper and Edward, she feels and hears things she shouldn't...
1. Chapter 1

The drive was unremarkable, nothing but a blur of green and old, worn road for miles. Hours were filled with copious amounts of coffee, speeding down long straight stretches and singing, badly out of tune, to the playlist I had loaded onto my phone.

I slowed as signs of life began to dot my periphery, tractors sitting idle in the murky, wet fields. Houses that went from a patchwork of old decaying barns and trailers to slightly newer, tidy homes; the siding of these ones were missing the apparent mold and chipped paint of the former. A few miles more there was a flash of a speed limit sign signaling the arrival into civilization and then a large, faded sign that welcomed everyone to the town of Forks.

It was as I remembered, little if any changes had happened to the few stores and homes since the last time I'd been here.

Such was the curse of a small town I suppose.

The drive from town to the residential area my Oma lived in was short. When I stopped beside the curb of the little yellow house that I'd used to visit during my childhood, I flipped the visor down to give my makeup a once over, running a finger under each eye to smooth the smudged mascara and foundation that'd settled. Though it did little for the constant baggies under my eyes, the little makeup I did wear made me feel a little better about myself.

I ruffled my hair with an exasperated sigh. It was flat, the curls I'd tried to work into it with my flat iron this morning had already fallen out and my blond hair was back to being straight as a pin. Without a second thought I gathered it up into a messy ponytail and wrapped the rubber band I had on my wrist around it.

When I finally took the time to look out at my second home, I blinked.

My Oma's love of tacky lawn ornaments and ferns was evident. The two lone, eye-wateringly bright pink flamingoes that I had gotten her when I was six had somehow multiplied into a yard overcome with badly painted tchotchkes in all shapes and sizes. I eyed the two gnomes guarding her mailbox with their grotesquely cheerful faces in slight horror as I moved from the car and around them; their eyes seemed to follow me wherever I went.

Shuddering I turned my attention to the normal portion of Oma's house; the old teak rocking chairs that Papa Fritz had made and the six huge ferns hanging under the eaves of her porch.

Nostalgia seeped into me as I remembered when it was all of us – mom, dad, me and Presley – that used to visit. Before Papa fritz had passed. Before Oma and my mom had their fight. When Presley and I used to fight over who would get to sit in the extra rocking chair for just a moment before Papa Fritz would come to claim it and send us off into the yard to play while he and Oma drank their coffee and discussed whatever it was they did.

The creaking sound of the screen door opening brought my attention to my Oma as she stepped out onto the porch, smiling and waving at me. She was thinner, frailer then when I last saw her, but she was still Oma, still my beloved grandmother who had more bracelets and rings than she had fingers and room on her thin wrists for.

The long skirt she wore was denim, a turquoise belt slung low on her hips and the button down blouse that was tucked in it billowed in the wind, along with the wind chimes that hung between the ferns on her porch.

"You've dyed your hair again!" She called out as the screen door slapped against its frame when she stepped further out onto the porch.

I laughed because the last time I'd been here my hair had been a vivid red. I smiled at her mischievously, "No, you just don't remember what my natural hair color is."

She looked heavenward, no doubt asking Papa Fritz for the strength to deal with me before smiling back at me and waving me up, sending her bracelets clanking together, "Come here and let me get a look at you," she demanded as her wispy silver hair, that had been a lovely ashy blond before her sickness, blew across her gently lined face, "Oh, Delaney, you've gotten so tall!"

"Maybe you're just shrinking, Oma," I teased as I ran up the steps and into her arms. She laughed and slapped at my arm lightly.

She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me away from her, giving me a once over with her blue eyes. She grinned sadly, the emotion thick and shaky behind her words, "You're Papa would be so proud of you," and then she looked down, discreetly wiping her eyes as she pulled her skirt up to turn, clearing her throat and peering up at me with a gentle smile, "Well, come on, put your things in your room and come have some tea with me."

I nodded and breathed in a shaky breath before returning her smile and replying, "Sure."

I followed her inside through the living room and passed the wall of photos, cringing slightly at my middle school photos, and then to the back of the house. As I pushed the door open to the guestroom, I was taken back by the color that enveloped me and I couldn't help but smile, tossing my purse onto the twin bed before turning around to meet Oma in the kitchen.

She looked up as the door frame groaned from my weight as I settled against it. She set her old copper kettle on top of a burner as she asked, "Do you like the color I painted your room, Delaney?"

I pushed off the door frame to grab two mugs from the cabinet humming as I did, "Mhm." I ran my finger around the rim of my coffee cup, feeling the chip that'd been put there when it had fell to the porch. It had been Papa Fritz's and had somehow become mine shortly after he had died. I shuffled across the linoleum floor and set the cups down on the counter next to the stove and poked Oma in the shoulder, "You know you didn't have to change anything for me."

She dismissed it with a wave of her hand and moved around the kitchen, grabbing milk out of the fridge and sugar from the blue moon and stars canister for our tea, "Delaney," she began, moving back towards the now whistling kettle, pouring the boiled water into the mugs with steady hands I knew weren't there to stay, "You dropped everything to come take care of me."

She turned slightly, her face a funny mixture of both gratitude and frustration and pointed at me, "Which I still say was unnecessary." She turned around sharply, and I couldn't help but note that she must be having a good day for her body to be so responsive, to stir the tea. She sighed heavily through her nose as she set the kettle back on the stove, "I know how much you hate white walls and I wanted you to be as comfortable as possible here."

And just like that, my heart swelled knowing that she knew me well enough, loved me so much that she'd breach her own safe zone to actually go out and pick a color outside of white and its accompanying boring and bland counterparts. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, "Thanks, Oma."

She sniffed, clearly letting me know that it wasn't that big a deal, and turned to hand me my mug of tea, all the while herding me into the living room. As we settled in, Oma looked up at me with a guarded smile, "How's everyone?"

I shrugged, unable to look her in the eyes, and blew on my tea, "Mom and dad are ok, I guess. Mom wanted me to tell you hi, dad, a hug," I paused, "Presley's hit her overly dramatic teenage years and thinks no one understands her. She hates school, keeps skipping."

Oma frowned ignoring what I had said about my parents, "I knew she was having some problems with her grades but I never knew it was that bad."

I slumped back in the chair and took a small sip of scalding hot tea before settling it on my thigh. I sighed and drummed my fingers against the mug, "I tried to help. Gave her tips on homework and how to deal with her classmates but she didn't want to listen to me," I shrugged, looking at Oma in frustration, "I even offered to scare some sense into some of the kids that's been giving her troubles. She said no. I mean, what's the use of having a sister that's a senior _and_ on the same campus if I can't flex some of my hard earned status?"

Oma pursed her lips, "Perhaps she wants to fight her own battles?"

I couldn't help the anger that knifed through me. I hated feeling helpless when it came to Presley but it was one of the many reasons I had wanted to come take care of Oma. If I hadn't, I'm sure I would have verbally eviscerated those kids, possibly even yanked them up by their collars to slap them around a bit and ruin my relationship with my little sister as I did so. I rubbed my forehead and sighed forcefully though my nose, "I just hope she doesn't wait too long, if that's the case."

There was a stretch of silence after Oma had hummed her response and I played with the ring on my middle finger, twisting it monotonously and calming my mind in the process. The pressing issue of my being here weighed against me as my anger faded, "When's your next session?"

Oma's eyes turned sluggishly up from her tea, bright blue eyes falling on my own. Her face was unconcerned but her voice held suppressed dread, "Two weeks."

I sat my mug down on the coffee table, "How bad is it?"

She plucked at the hem of her shirt and the sight of her hands startled me. I had noticed how frail she had gotten but it was the first time that I saw how much she had truly aged since she had begun chemotherapy. Her hands were so thin, knuckles pronounced and skin nearly translucent, "It takes about a week for the nausea to run its course, my strength about two after that."

She smiled sadly before shaking her head and changed the subject, "Now, the package you sent arrived before you did, it's in the closet in your room. If you still need a desk for your computer we can run to the market in town," she paused, brows furrowing before her eyes lit up, "Oh! I got that internet stuff set up last week!"

Relief flooded through me in the form of a huge grin, "Thank you so very much," I didn't know how long I could survive without the internet, "and I picked up a small desk before leaving Portland, I just need to assemble it."

"And what about school?"

"I have all my transfer papers in the car, just need to run up to the highschool to enroll."

She nodded, "We can go tomorrow that way you have the weekend to set up your room. How much stuff did you manage to pack in your car?"

I laughed thinking back to my mom making a quip about my love of tetris finally being put to use, "Every little bit of available space I had, I used."

She perked up, "Do you need any help unpacking?"

I shook my head, "Nah, there isn't anything that's so heavy that I need help."

Oma was pouting when she said, rather wistfully, "That's too bad, there's so many nice looking young men around here that I'm sure would love helping you out."

The next day saw the back seat of my car free of boxes and all my other crap, the trunk, not so much. But, it was time to go enroll in the high school and Oma was getting restless. So while I was looking at the mess inside my trunk in horror, she settled down in the passenger seat after a little wave. I just shook my head and closed the trunk lid. She was still arranging her ankle length bohemian skirt when I plopped down behind the wheel, "Ready?"

She nodded and patted the cracked dash of my car and said, "Onward!"

I laughed and put the car in drive, "Anywhere else after we get this sorted out?"

"The grocers," she smiled sheepishly, "I forgot to restock before you got here."

I snorted because she was just like my mom, "I know all too well how much you hate shopping," I flicked the blinker on before turning onto the road that the school was on and in a few minutes, I turned onto the driveway with the strange sense of coming home, "Do you know where the office is?"

She pointed to a building, the bangles on her thin arm jangling, "There."

Following her directions I pulled up beside a nice looking Acura, the beads of left over rain glinting off it. As I turned the car off and climbed out, Oma groaned as she levered herself out of her seat, "Getting too old," she grouched.

My shoes squelched against the wet asphalt as I turned the corner to the passenger side and hooked my arm for her to take, "No you aren't." She smiled, eyes shining as she grabbed the manila envelope off the dashboard. After she tucked her hand in the crook of my arm, I led her into the office.

The receptionist, red hair frizzed from the constant rain and eyes glazed over from staring at the computer screen before her, smiled tiredly and greeted us as we stepped inside, "What can I do for you?"

I glanced up at her and smiled, "Enrolling for the rest of the year," I replied as I moved Oma to a chair. She handed me the envelope as the receptionist commented to herself, "Another transfer, my, aren't we popular."

"Oh?" I heard Oma breath and the lady behind the desk laughed, "Yep, had another transfer just last week, Chief Swan's daughter," she said looking over the counter at Oma.

"Oh that's right, I completely forgot!" Oma said as she snapped her fingers, "I promised Charlie my famous apple pie as a welcome home present."

"So, apple pie stuff from the grocery store?" I asked as I handed my transfer papers to the receptionist.

"Yes," she nodded enthusiastically and I smiled at her energy, knowing that I wouldn't see it for a while after her next chemo session.

"So, Ms. Lee, you're all set here, come to the office tomorrow," I interrupted, "Monday, I still have some unpacking to do," and she nodded, "Ok, Monday, and get your schedule."

"So you don't need anything else?" I asked as I moved to Oma.

The receptionist leafed through some documents, licking her fingers every once in a while as she did, "Not that I can see."

I shifted towards the door, "Alright, I'll see you Monday morning."

And with that done, Oma and I terrorized the local supermarket. She had way too much fun in the motorized scooter.


	2. Chapter 2

Monday rolled around in a flurry of unpacking and heavy doses of procrastination.

I couldn't help the blustery sigh of frustration that blew past my lips as I glared down at the books stacked in the back of my trunk; no doubt they'd be spread all over the place once I drove without the boxes back there to keep them in place. It had been a bitch to load them, carrying them down from my second floor bedroom and even though it was a shorter trip to my new room this go around, I certainly wasn't looking forward to unpacking them; hence the procrastination.

There was also a little dilemma with the apple pie that Oma was supposed to be baking for Charlie and his daughter.

Apparently the apples that we'd bought from the market here in Forks weren't right, or something. Too grainy or mealy, not tart enough, etcetera. So, we made a mad dash to Port Angelas Saturday afternoon in search of better quality produce.

I drew a quick, sharp breath of earthy and damp air. Oma had let me handle the knife, seeing as her hands had lost their steadiness and set me to work on them. Those apples, well… I never was the best cook.

Eyeing the books once more in my trunk, I flicked my hair over my shoulder and slammed the lid down. I promised myself I'd get around to it later. Maybe.

I slid into the driver's side seat, yawning as I did. The seat belt clicked and engine roared to life as I went through the motions, unable to shake the feeling that it was going to be a long day.

The drive was short and the walk to the office was quick even battling against the wind that whipped across my cheeks and tangled my hair. The warmth of the office blanketed me as I shut the door and the receptionist I'd met back on Thursday introduced herself as Mrs. Cope and welcomed me back as she handed me my schedule.

Thanking her, I backed back out into the blustering wind, fingers clamped tight together to keep my papers from scattering.

Sighing deep through my nose, I read over my schedule, groaning when I noticed that pre-cal was right after fucking lunch. Fantastic.

As much as I didn't want a hectic school year with Oma on my plate, I still had to complete some required courses needed for one of the state scholarships.

Shuffling the papers around, I slid the map of the campus to the front and eyed it, memorizing the few building that the school had.

Art was up the hill, along with the band classroom and that's where I headed, pink slip in hand for the teacher to sign.

I was a little surprised, but relieved, that no one had approached me. Maybe they were still breaking in the chief's daughter? At that thought, my mind drifted back to the mutilated apples sitting in the fridge. She was planning on me helping her cook that apple pie tonight.

A wry smile lit across my face, Oma was in for a surprise when she found out that my cooking skills didn't extend past boiling water for ramen.

I walked feverishly against the misting rain and into the art classroom. I turned a circle and then poked my head back outside the classroom checking for any sign of life because the teacher and students seemed to be missing. I checked my watch, brows furrowing when it read 7:57am.

"Great," I murmured, thinking that I'd missed some outing or assembly. I headed to one of the front tables and took a seat, dropping my bag next to my chair and waited.

For ten minutes I sat with my chin propped up on my fists watching the door before deciding that I'd had enough. With a little over forty minutes left, it gave me enough time to read through a chapter or two of the latest historical fiction novel I'd picked up before leaving Portland.

I had been so immersed in the book I'd jumped when the trilling bell for second period rang. Quickly tucking the novel away, I made my way to Spanish, huffing a little seeing as it was all the way on the other side of campus. With just seconds to spare I stepped through the doorframe as the tardy bell rang only to find the whole classroom turned toward me. Some stared and a few others went back to chatting with their friends. One however, had glanced up and dismissed my arrival so quickly I felt the whiplash from where I stood.

Mentally shrugging, I turned toward the squat teacher sitting behind her desk and smiled at her, stepping up and handing her my slip, "Morning."

"Good morning, I'm Mrs. Hollis," she clipped, her hand claw like as she scrawled her initials across the designated box before handing it back to me, "Take a seat."

I nodded and looked around the room, hoping for a chair next to no one but was sadly out of luck. Squaring my shoulders, I took a seat in between the guy that looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but Spanish – or maybe it was school in general – and a girl that was eye fucking him with all the subtly of a PCP rager.

Before I could say anything to my new neighbors, specifically the guy who stiffened up like I was about to eat him, the teacher ambled out from behind her desk, remote in hand and turned on the giant screen TV at the front of the room. I couldn't stop the eye twitch. It was distance learning.

"Alright," she muttered as she jabbed a fat finger down on the remote and the call started. After four rings the screen flickered on and a woman with long, curly black hair waved, "Hola, Forks."

"Hola, Ms. Paola," intoned the class, flat and dead. I stared at the screen, eyes glazed over in abject horror.

Ms. Paola squinted her eyes as she leaned in towards the screen, "Oh? Do we have a new student?"

Mrs. Hollis gestured for me to stand and with a small sound of annoyance and a plastered, fake smile on my face I stood, turning towards the screen, "Good morning Ms. Paola, I'm Delaney Lee."

After she nodded and greeted me, I plopped back down in my seat and burrowed my hands in my sleeves, trying to tune out the monotonous voice coming from the TV.

The boy beside me, who I learned was named Jasper after the teacher called on him, shifted slightly, thankfully not as tense as he had been when I had sat down, and leaned forward to answer the question. It gave me a chance to get a better look at him. He was beautiful, so much so that it made my chest ache and it was suddenly very easy to understand why the girl beside me was in some sort of a trance and drooling all over herself.

His skin was pale and luminescent, unblemished to the naked eye and he had an aura about him that made the hairs on my arms and neck stand on in.

The more I concentrated on it, the more it felt like something was lapping against my skin just before it became heavy and sank into me. All of a sudden I felt a burst of insatiable curiosity that churned into a spike of lust which crashed into me so heavily I felt dizzy, and then it gave way to boredom so oppressing that I was on the verge of tears.

It felt like I was a sponge, soaking up every emotion from the room. I could feel it, where they were coming from and I shuddered at the realization. Because how in the fucking world was this even real? The emotions felt like they were pressing heavily against my insides, invasive and loud. Too much everything. Heart pounding, cold sweat breaking out across my body, sudden fatigue and my gut twisting up in anxiety. I tried to subtly and slowly sink down in my chair, trying to combat the nausea and headache that'd erupted with deep steading breathing.

I laid my head on the table, unable to see through my tear rimmed lashes and wanting to avoid a scene.

There was a growing worry, dark and brooding, to my side and I peeked at Jasper from under my arm. His eyes were tight and pained, brows furrowed and mouth twisted down in a frown. Like he knew what was going on and didn't understand why. Then his face smoothed and I felt the pressure ease from around me, the heaviness that had been blanketing me was back to lapping lightly, almost teasingly at my skin.

Sucking in a breath and hoping to shake all the intense, foreign emotions away, I relaxed and eventually they seeped away, leaving behind nothing but an aching fatigue in their wake.

I blinked wearily, sluggishly. What the hell was that?

Then the pressure increased again, it didn't go as deep, but it was still oppressive and claustrophobic. I wanted to tear at the neck of my shirt and gasp for air against the imaginary blanket of... what? What could I possibly say this was and not have crazy pills shoved down my throat? By the time it abated again my jaw was aching from clenching it and I felt an unpleasant flop in my stomach.

I swallowed against the burning at the back of my throat and breathed deeply through my nose.

Something cold brushed my arm and I jerked my head up, finding a pale hand hovering above it. I looked over to Jasper, my brows furrowed in confusion.

He made no other move besides to drop his arm back to his lap. His face was devoid of emotion, smooth. But his eyes were troubled and there was something there, under the worry. He was intrigued.

Then he spoke, his lips moving softly and his words drawled across his tongue, "You alright?"

It was a deep, melodic voice and it stunned me for a second. I nodded shakily, "Yea."

He dipped his head once and then turned back towards the rambling Ms. Paola, leaving me in a stupor until the end of class.

By lunch time, I'd somehow made it through my other two classes and had been approached by quite a few people. One of which was the girl, Amanda, that had been foaming at the mouth in Spanish, demanding how I had gotten Jasper to speak to me.

Such a charming girl, that one.

The weather had slowly degraded into a miniature hurricane, the wind blowing sheets of rain in a continuous wall of lines and making the doors ridiculously hard to open.

The caf was a welcome sight, even if the din of voices that exploded from behind the doors made my head pound worse than it already was. Shaking the water off my coat, I got in line and surreptitiously looked for an empty table.

Bingo. Zeroing in on it I kept my fingers crossed that it would remain empty.

The line moved quickly and I mentally cursed anyone that came close to my table. Paying for my lunch, I grabbed a tray and grimaced at the selection. I picked up the safest looking edible, because really, how badly could they mess up pizza? Then a glass of water and walked towards my table, sighing heavily as I sat down. For a moment a relished in not having to think, then I stared down at my food, wondering if the quality fluctuated or if this was what I should come to expect every day.

There was a lull in the clamoring bustle of the cafeteria that caused me to look up in curiosity, only to catch four of the most beautiful people I'd ever seen walking through the door. I noticed Jasper immediately and before I could peel my eyes away, copper flashed up and caught me in his gaze.

He looked away first and I couldn't help but curse myself for staring like some star-struck pre-teen. Forcing myself to look back down at my tray, I stabbed at the slice of pizza viciously and jumped a second later when someone dropped their tray next to me. Somewhat amused, I flicked the corn that had flown off it away and looked up into the face of someone I hadn't met yet.

He was handsome, dimples on his cheeks, tan skin, mop full of curly brown hair and smoldering blue eyes framed by dark lashes. The letterman jacket gave away why he was approaching me. Jock; and most jocks were conceited assholes because they thought they ruled the school and had to test the new kids to see if they were cool enough to hang with or excommunicate to the bottom of the school hierarchy. At least in my experience that was the way it went. I suppose I could pass judgement after I talked with him.

His smile widened at my once over of him and I had to clamp down on an eye roll. He definitely knew he was good looking, used to charming his way out of trouble and a girl, her pants.

He held his hand out, "Hey, I'm Justin and you must be the new girl."

I smiled back at him, trying to keep my dislike of what he represented off my face, "That's me." I hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, wondering if he'd misconstrue the gesture, "Delaney."

"Well, Delaney," he said as he sat down beside me, "How're you liking Forks High so far?"

"It's been," I shook my head as something that had been bugging me popped back into my head, "Is there something I need to know about my first period art class?"

He laughed, "Oh I'm jealous," he looked at me seriously, "Do you know how many kids would kill to be in that class?"

"Why?" I asked warily.

"It's an unoffical free period," he looked around and leaned in, "Mrs. Newman has a bad habit of getting stoned in her car right before school starts." He shrugged and chuckled at my look of surprise, "Says she needs a smoother in order to deal with us fuckers and lets her first period off as a payment for those in her class to keep their mouths shut. Just go after seventh period to get her to sign your slip before you turn it in."

I snorted because the last art teacher I had was a bible thumping prude that wouldn't allow euphemisms for any curse words. Meaning, if you interchanged butter for shit and she heard you, you'd be writing lines. I eyed him suspiciously, "You're being serious, aren't you?"

He nodded and shoved a forkful of corn in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he asked, "What about your other classes?"

I grimaced and he snickered, "That bad, huh?"

I poked at the cold pizza on my tray again, "Spanish is," I trailed off, frustration at both the horrible learning environment and the awful experience with the suffocating… aura I'd encountered. I scoffed mentally because it sounded so ridiculous.

He nodded and finished for me, "Horrific."

Yea, I'd say it was.

He sat back, "The distance learning program is getting shut down next year, not that that helps you any," he added with a wry smile, "but it hasn't been a popular course. It's only taken by those masochists that want that state funded scholarship."

I pointed to myself, "Masochist."

He laughed and rested his arm on the table, "So, what brings you to Forks? Not many people transfer schools during their senior year."

"My Oma, grandma," I clarified seeing his confusion, "I'm here to take care of her." I fidgeted with the hem of my sleeve and looked up, my eyes automatically landing on the table where Jasper and those three other beautiful teens had decided to sit and not eat, apparently, "Who are they?"

I felt Justin's gaze leave me, "Ah, the Cullen's. Well, Cullen's and Hale's, but they're known as the Cullen's," I looked back at him as he discreetly pointed at the bulky guy, whose eyes were twinkling and smile blinding as he laughed at something, "That's Emmett Cullen, he and the blond one," he said as his finger moved over an inch, landing on a girl that was so achingly beautiful words failed me, "Rosalie Hale, are together and she is the twin sister of him," he said and again his finger moved across the table towards the boy I knew, "Jasper Hale and he's with her," and unbidden, my stomach clenched at that statement. His finger moved a final time towards a girl that looked elfin. Her fine features and dainty, graceful movements fit her in a way that I couldn't explain, "Alice Cullen is her name. She's the friendliest of the lot, aside from Emmett."

He paused, looking thoughtful, "There used to be another boy, Edward Cullen, but he had some kind of weird breakdown about a week or so ago."

"Friendliest?" I murmured and looked back at Justin whose mouth was set in a thin line.

He exhaled and I could feel the underlying frustration of someone who'd been spurned, no doubt by one of the two Cullen girls. Maybe even the big guy, Emmett. I could see him as a beast of a linebacker, "Yeah, they don't really associate outside of their group."

I looked back at my food and poked at it a final time, itching to leave the caf as I felt that heavy aura pricking at the periphery of my senses again, "Thanks for sitting with me," I grinned shakily, "and talking."

He smiled back, obviously missing my discomfort, his dimples forming on his cheeks as he did, "No prob."

As I stood and reached for my tray he spoke, hand reaching out hesitantly, "H-hey, wanna hang out again tomorrow?"

I felt the aura prickle and lash suddenly, causing a shiver to race up my spine.

"Uh, yea, that'd be nice," I replied quickly before pivoting on my heel, throwing a, "See you tomorrow, Justin," over my shoulder.

I couldn't get out of the cafeteria fast enough.


End file.
